Resuscitation (17 page)

Davidson opened the folder and read the preliminary autopsy report. “Mother of Mercy.”

“The second victim died of cardiac arrest,” Larson said. “Same stapled chest. Same burn marks on his ribcage.”

Davidson shook his head. “This one was dressed in an
Armani
suit?”

“Our guy has good taste in clothing.” Larson let out a heavy breath. “But the perp wasn’t kind enough to leave us a price tag this time.”

“He’s been careless to this point. Maybe he’s tightening his act.”

“I hope not,” Larson said. “Ramirez still partnering with Diaz on this investigation?”

“Diaz is off the case.”

Larson parked his hands on his hips. “This better be good, Captain.”

Davidson explained the situation. “I found out yesterday morning.”

“He’s the best we’ve got,” Larson said. “What’s your contingency plan?”

“I’ve assigned Osbourn and D’Angelo.” He hesitated. “Ramirez wasn’t working out.”

Larson’s face tightened. “D’Angelo’s two months away from retirement and Osbourn is still wet behind the ears.”

“With all the budget cuts, Chief, we’re running the show really lean.”

“I want to be in the loop on every fucking development—no matter how insignificant. Is that clear, Captain?”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“And tell Osbourn and D’Angelo to get their asses in gear and find this fucking douche bag.”

Slouched forward, half asleep, Sami was startled when Doctor Templeton walked in the visitor’s waiting room and called her name. Completely disoriented and not remembering where she was, she stood up quickly and felt a wave of dizziness. She steadied herself by grasping the arm of the chair. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was drunk.

“Sorry, Doctor, I must have dozed off.” She searched his eyes for a hint of what he might say, but they offered no clues.

“The bypass went even better than I anticipated. Your mom came through the surgery aces.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I…I can’t thank you enough.” Sami squeezed her eyes shut and tears ran down her face. Her mind flooded with memories of the extremes in her relationship with her mom. There were good times and bad, conflict and harmony, trepidations and words of support. Their relationship had been the proverbial roller-coaster ride—most of the time racing along dangerous curves. She had no delusions about their compatibility. But she hoped that however many years her mom had left, they could form an allegiance and build a strong, loving mother-daughter connection.

Doctor Templeton draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a side hug. “Those are happy tears, right?”

Sami nodded. “When can I see her?”

“She’s going to be in recovery for a while. When she wakes up, they’ll move her to the ICU. She’s likely going to be unconscious for an hour or so, and even when she comes out of it, expect her to be groggy for another twenty-four hours.” Doctor Templeton hesitated for a moment, his lips tensed to a thin line. “The next couple weeks are going to be tough. Your mother is going to experience both physical and psychological challenges. I’ll prescribe some pain pills and a sedative to relax her. Just don’t be alarmed if her behavior is out of sorts. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll have someone come and get you as soon as she comes out of the anesthesia.”

As inappropriate as it would be, Sami almost laughed at the doctor’s comment about her mother’s behavior being out of sorts. What Doctor Templeton hadn’t yet discovered was that her mother’s behavior was
always
out of sorts.

“I keep saying ‘thank you’ because I don’t know what else to say, but thank you again.”

He offered his hand. “It’s been my pleasure, Ms. Rizzo. Hope we meet again under less stressful circumstances.”

“Aleta,” Al whispered, his mouth almost touching her ear. “It’s Alberto.” Only his sister and Sami’s mother called him by his given name. “Please open your eyes.”

Although Aleta remained unconscious, the doctor cautioned Al to be careful what he said in front of her, warning him that people in a coma can generally hear very well. They can’t necessarily react to what they hear, but every word is comprehensible.

As Al stood over his sister, shocked by her black and blue eyes, severely bruised forehead, and swollen nose, what struck him most were the plastic tubes invading her body. She looked like a subject in some sick experiment. He stepped out in the hall, out of earshot, where the doctor waited for him.

“Be straight with me, Doctor. What are her chances?” Al asked.

The young Brazilian doctor spoke perfect English but with a thick Portuguese accent. “It is not looking so good,” Doctor Souza said. “The longer she remains in a coma, the more concerned I become. But try not to despair. Although her brain is swollen from the impact of the collision, her brain activity is still strong, and the MRI did not reveal extensive brain damage.”

“Then why is she in a coma?” Al asked.

“It’s the swelling of her brain, Mr. Diaz, causing intracranial pressure. We are administering medications that I hope will reduce the swelling, but until they do, she will likely remain comatose.”

“Not to insult you, Doctor, but are there other hospitals better equipped to deal with her condition?”

“I assure you, Mr. Diaz, we are doing everything possible to treat your sister with the most medically advanced techniques.”

The doctor left and Al bolted out the door a few steps behind him, and headed for the exit. He didn’t want to leave his sister’s side, even for a moment, but he needed some fresh air, some time to absorb everything the doctor said. When he stepped outside, the brisk autumn air gave him a chill. When he’d left San Diego, the temperature flirted with eighty degrees.

Al leaned against the cold concrete wall and inhaled the refreshing air. He was ready to scoot back to his sister’s room when his cell phone rang.

“Hi, Sami,” Al said. “Good news?”

“Mom went through the surgery with flying colors.”

“Fantastic.”

“What’s the latest with Aleta?”

“Nothing’s changed. She looks terrible—like someone beat her with a lead pipe. It’s really tough to see her this way.”

“Stay there as long as you like. But just be sure to touch base and keep me posted.”

“I promise.”

“Captain Davidson must be having a coronary,” she said.

“He wasn’t overjoyed when I left. And he’s already called me twice.”

“So he told you?”

“Told me what?”

“There’s been another homicide. According to the news, it looks like the same MO.”

“Fuck,” Al said. “Now the captain’s really going to give me shit.”

“You need to be with your sister. No matter what. Besides, everything’s been cleared through HR.”

“
I
realize that. And
you
realize that. But the captain is a whole ’nother story.”

“Family first, Love.”

Sami could hear Al breathing heavily into the cell phone. Burdening him with more to think about was the last thing she wanted, but she felt so conflicted and confused, she just couldn’t help herself.

“I realize your plate’s full right now, and I hate to give you even more shit to deal with, but I really have to run something by you before my head explodes.”

“Sounds serious.”

Sami wasn’t quite sure how to deliver this announcement in a gentle fashion, so she got right to the point. “You’re going to think I’m some unstable dingbat, but I’ve been thinking about approaching Captain Davidson and Chief Larson to see if it’s possible for me to get reinstated.”

“
Reinstated
?”

“Considering what’s going on right now, my timing might be perfect.”

“But how about school and social work?

“I’m bored to death with school, and the whole social-worker gig just isn’t what I expected. To make it in that world, you have to get your master’s degree, and I understood that going in. But now that I’ve got two years invested in school, there’s no way I can sit in a classroom for another couple years.”

“But Sami, after your ordeal with Simon, I thought you’d had it with detective work.”

“So did I. But times change. Circumstances change. I guess detective work is more in my blood than I thought.”

“Well, Sami, you just knocked the piss right out of me. But, if you’ve really thought this through carefully, and this is what you want, hey, you have my total support.”

“Thank you. How do you think the captain and chief will respond?”

“To be honest, with the current hiring freeze and restricted budget, I think you’re facing an uphill battle.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I tangled asses with the two of them.”

“And it likely won’t be the last.” Al paused. “I hate to cut you short, but I’ve got to get back to my sister’s room. Tell your mom she’s in my thoughts. And give her a kiss for me.”

“I will. If anything changes with Aleta, call me right away—no matter what time.”

“Good luck with Davidson and Larson.”

“I’m going to need more than luck.”

The medical experiments Julian had conducted on Connor did not yield sufficient evidence to support his research conclusions. In fact, they hadn’t produced one piece of evidence to uphold his theories about new surgical treatments for the cure or control of atrial fibrillation. At first, when Julian discovered that Connor suffered from an arrhythmia, he couldn’t believe it. Considering that only about three percent of the population suffers from A-Fib, and the majority are over sixty years old, what were the chances that he would randomly meet someone with this condition—particularly a man so young? Julian had made some incorrect medical judgments that cut his experiments short. Now faced with a profound feeling of guilt—
oh, how Connor had suffered
—he had to remove all distractions and moral arguments and look at the big picture.

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few
.

He had thought long and hard about how he could cut the connection between his laboratory experiments and the research he performed on live subjects, how to sidetrack the police. The solution was so obvious; he couldn’t believe he’d overlooked it. It was a simple strategy: divert attention away from surgical procedures on hearts by performing mock procedures on other organs.

Such a simple concept, yet utterly brilliant.

Now Julian could focus all of his attention on the only issue that mattered. If he could support his theories through controlled studies and develop a new surgical procedure that far surpassed catheter ablation and the three Maze procedures, Julian would likely see his photo on the cover of every medical publication in the world. Not to mention that he would gain the respect of the entire medical community, the recognition he urgently longed for. And if he was painstakingly careful with the data, no one would ever know that he’d gathered it from live subjects.

Having conducted his research on two subjects, a renewed urgency rose in him, an uncontrollable desire to continue with his experiments. He had to get past Genevieve and Connor and press on. But he did not have the luxury to come and go as he pleased. His family had now become his most formidable roadblock.

He could only conduct his research on live subjects when his family was out of the picture. After all, he couldn’t just vanish for several days without a credible explanation. As a cardiologist, his work often required that he travel and attend conferences. But how often could he use this excuse without his wife getting suspicious? Once or twice a month, Nicole drove the kids to Los Angeles to spend a weekend with her parents, but they had just returned from a visit, so Julian didn’t expect them to make another trip soon. For him to complete his research and meet the six-month deadline GAFF had given him, he had to find a way around this logistical problem. Even if it required drastic measures.

Feeling as if she were returning from a short vacation, Sami walked into the precinct and the only face she recognized belonged to veteran homicide investigator Chuck D’Angelo. The precinct hummed with activity, detectives as well as support staff buzzing around. Out of pure courtesy, she thought about approaching D’Angelo, even though she couldn’t stand the guy, but he looked busy talking to a young man she had never seen before. Likely a newbie, she guessed. Maybe her replacement?